


19 - Memory Lane

by distantstarlight



Series: 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Day 19, Future or Past, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: Sherlock has insisted that John join him at a class reunion. Once there, John meets several different men, all of whom have something unexpected to tell John.





	19 - Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I wrote the end of this at work. I hope you appreciate that fact. :D

The last thing John Watson expected was for Sherlock Holmes to have an ex-boyfriend. The second last thing John Watson expected was for Sherlock Holmes to have _several_ ex-boyfriends. The third last thing that John Watson ever expected was to be railroaded into attending his best friend’s class reunion and then be forced to sit down and listen to these various men moan about Sherlock.

John was accustomed to the moaning part. People really didn’t warm up to Sherlock very easily so he had heard more than his fair share of gripes and outright accusations. He almost never heard regret, unless it was someone regretting ever meeting the world’s only consulting detective.

Rufus was dark and wild-eyed, still posh and dapper but not quite as smoothed down as many of the other people in attendance. He was also well into his cups, as nearly everyone was. The party had started off with a round of drinks to toast the evening and hadn’t really stopped. John had lost sight of Sherlock and during the course of trying to locate him, had happened upon a string of men, “He’s a bad bet, mate.” Rufus sounded sincere but there was a bitterness to his words, “Oh, he’ll take you and use you and make you feel amazing, but the second he’s had what he wants, off he goes and doesn’t even remember your name.”

John wasn’t sure how to respond. “Sherlock?” _Sherlock Holmes, atheist ascetic? The man who ignored his body so hard that John had to look after it for him_?

“Sherlock _fucking_ Holmes.” _The bitterness was definitely present._ “Best shag of my life, what I got of it, anyway. He moved on almost right away. We were only together for a couple of weeks before he was with Julian.”

John was stunned. _Wasn't Sherlock a virgin? He_ _’_ _d had sex? Not only had he had sex but he was labelled best shag ever by an obviously angry man?_ John still didn’t know what to say, “Who?”

Rufus raised his head, “Julian! Come over here.”

A pale haired, equally tall, and handsome man staggered over, “Yeah?”

“Tell this bloke about Sherlock.” Rufus looked mulish.

Julian looked a bit embarrassed and then he too frowned, “Thought I’d pinched him from you. It was great…for a while.” Julian looked more embarrassed, “Never been with a bloke before or since. He was…incredible. Ruined me, he did, bloody incredible.”

“Yeah, incredible.” Rufus agreed, “Best damn shag I ever had.”

“The very best.” Julian swayed as he nodded, “Then there was Oren.”

Oren turned out to be a rather large and hulking man who had been an exchange student. He was found, brought over, and added his lament to the others, “He was so small, so pretty, so smart. I would have been happy forever to have such a jewel but…I messed up. I must have. He left me and then…” Oren’s face crumpled and John was terrified that he’d have a mass of weeping men hanging onto him, “Then there was Tom.”

“Tom,” chorused the others despondently.

Tom was another classmate who was duly located and brought into the huddle, “Sherlock is here?” John did not fail to notice how every last one of them straightened their clothing. He was suddenly reminded of his sister’s first big social. All her friends had come to the house to get dressed and do each other’s hair and makeup. “Bloody bastard, I would have married him. One month, a month, that’s all I got.”

“A whole month? I had only two weeks!” All of them bickered about how short their relationships had been and how much worse it had been for each of them to find that they just hadn’t measured up.

“This is John Watson. He lives with Sherlock.” Suddenly, John had several pairs of unhappy eyes boring into him, “He _came_ with Sherlock.” The eyes grew harder and more disbelieving.

“Him?” blurted out Oren, “He’s puny! Sherlock would not want a man so small.”

John did not appreciate that and was about to say he wasn’t even Sherlock’s boyfriend when Tom opined loudly, “He’s _old_ too, too old for someone like Sherlock.”

“Plain,” nodded Julian, “Sherlock always wanted someone beautiful on his arm.” Everyone looked at each other. All of them were strikingly handsome, fit, and perfect. All of them looked down at John and he became acutely aware of his wrinkles, his greying hair, and the podge around his middle.

Suddenly John felt two large hands settle on his shoulders and heard Sherlock’s voice right behind his head, “I have been with John Watson for six years now. He’s brave, honest, more deadly than he’s probably comfortable letting you know, and most certainly the most attractive man I have ever laid eyes on. I’m honoured to be with John, he’s a war hero, a doctor, and an example to all. I can only hope to retain his interest for as long as possible. Excuse me, gentlemen, I wish to dance with my date. I’m rather jealous of his time, you see, that’s all for me.”

Sherlock put an arm around John’s shoulder and pulled him into the crowd of dancer and out of view of the inebriated group of sad-eyed exes. “We haven’t _been together_ for six years.”

“I didn’t say _how_ we were together. We’ve known each other that long.” Sherlock smoothly danced John around the floor, the lessons he’d taught John coming back easily to the soldier who let himself be guided back and forth, “The rest is true.”

John blinked. _Sherlock thought he was the most handsome man he_ _’_ _d ever met. Sherlock had told his exes that he wanted John to be interested in him_. John looked up and saw that Sherlock actually looked nervous, “Come on then, _boyfriend_.” John saw the exes peering over heads to catch a glimpse of them so right there in the middle of the floor, John stopped dancing and pulled Sherlock’s head closer, murmuring as their lips hovered millimetres away from each other, “You’d better not be toying with me, Sherlock.”

Sherlock’s eyes were full of such hope that John knew what was happening was real, “John, I would never, not with you. You are my best friend, the person I care about most in this world. If not with you, John Watson, then I will walk alone in this world. I won’t settle for less. It has to be you. I’m certain.”

John didn’t really need to think about this. He didn’t care that they were in public. If he was going to accept Sherlock’s interest, then the whole world should bloody well know, “You can’t dump me after a month.”

Sherlock chuckled, “ _You_ haven’t been dating _me_ , John Watson, but _I_ _’_ _ve_ been dating _you_ all this time. I’ll never give you up. I am incapable of such an act.”

John felt incredibly good as Sherlock gathered him close. They were grinning at one another and when their mouths met, a small giggle made them sputter and laugh even more, “Don’t step on me.”

“Shan’t, my love.” John felt his heart thump almost painfully as the phrase dropped easily from Sherlock’s lips, “Yes, you are, John. Never doubt it. If you think for a moment, you’ll realise that you already knew.”

John did know and it was like a veil had been torn from his eyes. Sherlock loved him so much that he’d taken every kind of risk, lost everything he’d worked for, or that mattered to him, and all for John. “I love you too, Sherlock. You will always be my very best friend.”

Their second kiss was a lot less giggly and a thousand times more enjoyable. They stood there amidst the swirl of dancers, snogging like teens until someone bumped into them and jostled them apart. Sherlock’s eyes were shining and his eyes had a devilish gleam in them, “We have a hotel room upstairs, John.”

“Yeah?” teased the doctor, “I’d heard about your shag-master skills.”

Sherlock actually blushed and looked uncomfortable, “ _Rude_ that, I thought gentlemen didn’t kiss and tell.”

“I guess they’re not gentlemen because all your exes told me you were an experience of a lifetime.”

“Well, I am a damn good shag.” That set them both off but laughing or not, Sherlock still nearly dragged John off the dance floor and led him past the sad-eyed exes, parading his soldier in front of them. “Care to make this a forever thing?” Sherlock sounded casual.

John blinked as a billion arguments and counterarguments coalesced in his brain all at once. Dimly he wondered if this was what Sherlock felt like all the time. When the everything settled a mere instant later, John found that the decision was laughably easy, “How do you see us together in the future, then?” He was smiling hard, his eyes fixed on Sherlock’s.

When Sherlock dropped to one knee in front of him, John wanted to laugh out loud with disbelief but at the same moment, it felt exactly right, unexpected as all their recent developments were. “John, be mine forever. I don’t care how. We can stay just friends or we can go the distance. If I were to marry anyone I would want to marry _you_ , John, only you, otherwise, I would never even consider it.”

John couldn’t help glancing toward the men Sherlock had left behind. They were huddled together, watching them openly, horror and dismay painted on every last face. Oren was shaking his head, urging John to refuse. “Forever sounds manageable. I accept.”

Sherlock stood smoothly and cupped John’s face with his hands. John tried not to giggle as Sherlock kissed him in a manner worthy of any bodice-ripper novel, sliding a supporting arm behind John’s back, and taking John’s mouth like he owned it.

That mouth.

That incredible mouth.

John had never been kissed so passionately before. Sherlock knew very well what he was doing, his tongue teasing and toying with John’s until he heard himself almost sob out a moan of pure desire. Sherlock released him slowly, watching John’s face carefully, “More?”

“Oh god yes.”

When they walked through the doors, John couldn’t resist the temptation to smirk over his shoulder. Julian was trying not to cry and the others were just standing there, swallowing down their drinks grimly. It shouldn’t have felt good since he hadn’t been competing with them but John still understood that he’d won a much sought after prize. “Gloating doesn’t become you, John.”

“You did that on purpose, you heartless bastard.”

“Well, I gave my heart to you, John. Until you give me yours, I shall remain thus.” Sherlock crowded John up against a convenient wall, “Completely heartless, relentless, and very very skilled.” Sherlock kissed John again only this time, he nudged John’s knees apart and hefted John up, grinding their bodies together.

John was going to object to being picked up. _He was a man, not a child!_ The feel of Sherlock’s semi-hard penis pressing against him stifled all objections and instead, John hooked one leg over Sherlock’s to help keep himself braced, “Can’t wait to get to the room?”

“Just a taste, John, I’ve waited for so long to have you.” Sherlock’s voice was deeper than John had ever heard it, and there was an edge of desperation to it, “Years, John, you have no idea.” Sherlock kissed John hard, his long torso writhing against John’s just enough to tease him before he gently set John back on his feet, “Let’s go.”

John found using his legs a bit troublesome and that his trousers were terribly uncomfortable due to the very eager erection that was present. He glanced down at Sherlock and found that he was in a similar state. Their pace quickened and then they were nearly running down the hallways until they made it to their door, breathless and laughing. It took two tries to get the door open and they nearly fell through as the feverish groping began.

Sherlock kicked the door open and fell to his knees immediately. “Take these off, John.” He was yanking impatiently at John’s belt, “Trousers. Must get naked.” Sherlock leant in and bit John’s stomach gently through his shirt, “I need to see you, John!”

The urgent threads of passion in Sherlock’s voice burned away any insecurities that John might have had. He stripped himself as quickly as he could, a task made more difficult by Sherlock who was quite literally licking every newly exposed inch of John’s body as it was revealed. Sherlock wanted John desperately and it felt incredible. “You too, I want to see.”

They spent several seconds silently but quickly shedding everything they were wearing. Sherlock was entirely naked before John got to his pants and found himself being scooped up again by the consulting detective and nearly thrown on the bed. His pants disappeared and then Sherlock was back to tasting John all over.

Many people had gone down on John during his adult life. He had a robust sexual appetite and was charming enough to find many temporary lovers to spend some time with. No one had ever worshipped his cock the way Sherlock did right then. The look on the detective’s face was one of total bliss, his lips sliding over John’s flesh, taking John into himself hungrily. He moaned even more than John did, his tongue pressing and flicking at all the right moments in all the right spots. “I knew you’d be…generous.” Sherlock’s voice was already gravelly, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be correct.”

John hadn’t ever really worried about something trivial like penis size. He was a bit above average but what mostly was, was thick. Sherlock seemed to enjoy the challenge of it, pushing John deeper and deeper into his mouth until he couldn’t manage anymore. He seemed greedy for it, and it made John want to come down that long lovely throat. “I want to see yours.”

Sherlock changed position immediately, shifting so that he was kneeling astride John, his erection jutting out proudly. “It’s all yours.” Sherlock’s grin was rakish and knowing. John reached out and traced a curious finger over it. For all his vaunted experience, Sherlock still arched his back and sighed as if he’d never been touched before. That response encouraged John to continue familiarising himself with the shapes and textures of his friend.

Sherlock felt perfect in John’s hand. After a lifetime of beautiful full breasts and soft luscious curves, John discovered that what really turned him on was a cock so hard it was leaking, and flat steely muscles. John was glad he didn’t need to worry about giving up generous bottoms because Sherlock’s was finer than any he’d ever touched before. John was already breathing hard and they hadn’t even resumed kissing yet. Sherlock fixed that little issue, pinning John down with his body. John was both amused and wildly aroused over how lost to his needs Sherlock had become. He was rutting against John like a boy during his first time, and with a small laugh, John rolled Sherlock off of him, taking the higher position with a smile. “Slow down, love.”

All the air seemed to punch out of Sherlock and he looked overwhelmed. “John.” Sherlock was looking at John like he’d never seen anything finer and it made John a little self-conscious, “Don’t, John. You don’t understand what I see when I look at you. You are fascinating. I find you so beautiful. Your scars tell me so much about your character, your experiences. Your entire body is filled with so many details, I’ll never have enough time in my life to learn them all. Let me, John. I want to know you as much as I am able.”

“My heart is yours, Sherlock,” John confessed his feelings softly. “I should have realised.”

Sherlock didn’t seem to care right then. He was very focused on touching and tasting John some more. He sat up suddenly, nearly dislodging John, “Lube!” he cried in dismay, “We don’t have any!”

“Sherlock, we can get through one night without…”

“No! I need to fuck you, John! I don’t want to wait until we’re back at Baker Street!” Without waiting, Sherlock used their in-room phone to contact the front desk, “I need a large container of personal lubricant and a strip of condoms. Charge it to the room. Add some sports drinks to that, we’re going to be a bit dehydrated. Add a tip on top of that if you can get it here before I call a second time.”

He hung up and looked at John’s scowl, “Did you just send the receptionist out for lube?”

“Yes?” Sherlock looked a bit taken aback, “Not good?”

“Well…” John hesitated. It probably wasn’t the most bizarre request the hotel had ever been given. It would result in penetrative sex, “Wait, _who_ _’_ _s_ bottoming?”

Sherlock lit right up, “You are.”

“Why me?” John wasn’t sure he was ready to have anything put there.

“I’m _really_ good at topping, trust me. I’ve done my research, thoroughly.” John thought about the group of teary men they’d left behind and how they’d all claimed that Sherlock had ruined them, “Will I get to fuck you?”

“You can depend on it.” Sherlock looked eager, “Let me, John. We don’t need lubricant for the first part.”

“What are you going to use?”

“Saliva,” Sherlock looked devilish then, “My tongue.”

John went weak. _So much had shifted in so little time._ “Your tongue?”

“Oh yes, John. My tongue. I’m going to use it to lick you open. I’m going to make you wet and relaxed and then, as soon as we can, I’m going to fuck you so well you’ll never be able to have sex with anyone else.”

“Oh.” John didn’t know what to say now and wasn’t sure he could even speak coherently. “Okay.”

John had had plenty of sex in his life. He’d started at fifteen and hadn’t really stopped. He was fond of one-offs but wasn’t afraid if things lasted longer. His life hadn’t allowed him much time to develop many long-term relationships, and the less said about a certain female assassin, the better. This was different, so different from anything like that. In the past, John’s lovers had come to him needy and filled with desires that he readily quenched. He’d experienced different degrees of pleasure and satiation but never in his life had a simple act like Sherlock running his fingertip up John’s thigh made the doctor simply quiver. “Get on your knees, John, bend over.”

John did as he was told. It felt more than a bit weird to have his arse exposed like this. He felt awkward and for a moment, he didn’t want to do anything but then he heard Sherlock exhaled raggedly and say, “John. I might not make it. I could come right now, just looking at you.”

If that wasn’t an esteem boost, nothing was. Sherlock Holmes, apparently world’s greatest lover, was going to come on the spot just from looking at John’s bum, “Seriously?”

“Seriously, John.” Sherlock edged away breathing hard, “I’ve wanted you for a very long time, now that it’s happening, I feel overwhelmed.”

John sat back on his heels, “Want me to take the edge off?”

Sherlock looked at him a bit wild-eyed. “How?”

It turned out that John was a bit of a sex god himself. It seemed that many of the skills he’d learned in order to pleasure women could easily be translated into pleasuring men. “John!” John was nibbling his way up Sherlock’s inner thigh, the detective stretched out on the bed, his legs spread wide for John. It also turned out that having a cock in your mouth was just as pleasurable an oral activity as any other organ. The way Sherlock kept sobbing out his name was incredibly gratifying. When Sherlock grasped John’s head and tried to push him away, John resisted. Seconds later he felt hot spurts against his tongue and tasted the bitterness of Sherlock’s ejaculate. It hit the back of his throat and he swallowed reflexively.

Sherlock collapsed just as there was a discrete knock at the door. Grabbing a hotel robe, John answered the door. A bored looking porter was bearing a serving tray with bottles of drinks as well as a discrete paper bag. John grabbed up his trousers and tipped the man on his way before taking their new possessions inside. It wasn’t until after that John realised he’d been sporting a rather obvious erection during but that the porter apparently couldn't care less. It was oddly relaxing.

Sherlock was still spread out on the bed, obviously unable or reluctant to move. When John approached, Sherlock rolled over on his belly, “You’ve killed me, John. I can’t move. You just help yourself, alright?”

John laughed and knelt on the bed. He took up a condom and got it on himself. Sherlock opened the lube and applied some to himself, slowly getting onto his knees in the position that John had recently had. John was completely captivated. Sherlock’s fingers were so long, they appeared delicate, and he wasn’t slow about fitting in one after the other in short order, “This isn’t a race, Sherlock.”

“If your cock isn’t inside me within the next five minutes, I’m going to die.” Sherlock replied flatly, “I will John. Dead. Do you want to be responsible for that?”

John was giggling again even though it was a terrible thing to laugh about. “Why the rush?”

“John, you’ve already made me come. While I’m relaxed, it will be easier for you to breech me. I’m…it’s…I don’t normally allow it.” Sherlock’s fingers didn’t slow down at all, a third creeping inward as he stretched himself thoroughly.

“Why me?” John was stupefied. He didn’t normally allow it?

“I trust you, John. I love you. If anyone was going to make this good for me, it’s you. I’ve done it before and it’s always been dreadful.”

What? “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, John, I know you won’t. I’ve prepared myself. I’m ready. Please, John, I want you inside me even more than I want to be inside you.” _Sherlock was actually begging!_

John barely recalled the rest. He surged ahead, pressing the head of his cock against Sherlock’s well -prepared hole. “I’ve never done this.”

“In, John, now!” John obeyed. Pressing carefully, John groaned as he felt the tight ring of Sherlock’s hole squeeze around him. “Bloody hell, John, how big are you?” Reluctant words or not, Sherlock’s body was swallowing John up, taking him in greedily. When he was buried to the root he stopped moving and watched Sherlock tremble, “John.” Sherlock’s voice was broken and thick sounding, “John, it’s so good. Please, please move.”

John pulled back and pushed in smoothly. Sherlock cried out and shook. John did it again, and Sherlock cried out the same way. John kept going and Sherlock moaned, sighed, and groaned the entire time. John was losing his mind. He’d never been inside someone so tight. He’d never had a lover who trembled so. When Sherlock’s gasps became frantic and needier than ever, John quickened his pace. His own need to come was almost painful now but he wanted Sherlock to come a second time. John pulled back a bit and angled his entry slightly different. When he pushed in, Sherlock nearly shrieked, burying his face in a pillow and shouting for John to go faster, harder. John did.

Sherlock was going a bit wild. Even kneeling as he was, Sherlock reared back hard several times in a row before he arched up, his hand fisting his cock in a frantic way. “John. I’m coming. John. You’re making me come. John!”

John had never had a lover react to him like this. Sherlock’s entire back flushed red just as his shout reached epic levels. John was grateful that Sherlock had the presence of mind to stifle it a bit, gratifying as it was, but he was experiencing the loudest orgasm he’d ever cause in another person and John felt…proud.

When Sherlock began to sag bonelessly away from him, John grabbed his hips tight. He thrust rapidly for a few more seconds but he didn’t need more than that. “Sherlock!” John felt everything in his world spin and then stop. His orgasm was sharp and intense, his body bucking into Sherlock’s roughly until he collapsed onto Sherlock’s back.

Sleep obviously claimed them both. John woke the next day with Sherlock grumbling beside him, “My arse is on fire.”

John couldn’t help himself. He giggled. “We should have had a wash before sleeping.” He helped the pouting detective to the loo where he helped the sulky man shower, rubbing his back and his arse to relax him, soaping him from head to toe until Sherlock was nearly purring. John was washed in turn, Sherlock insisting on shampooing John’s hair before they were fully done. The detective was openly affectionate, even helping John with his jacket as they left their room for the farewell breakfast.

The dining room was partially full, and Sherlock walked John to their assigned seats while holding his hands. He was still moving stiffly, and it was plain to anyone that he’d been recently fucked and hard. John couldn’t help the thrill he experienced when he picked out the desolate faces of Sherlock’s exes. Oren and Tom, in particular, seemed the most adversely affected, and John wondered for a moment if they’d come to the reunion in the hopes of hooking up with Sherlock. “We’re coming back to the next reunion.” Sherlock announced with finality, “This has been incredibly satisfying.”

“You won’t be able to break their hearts again, Sherlock!”

“Nonsense, John, I won’t be doing it. You will. Thanks, my love, you’ve made this a very special experience for me.” Sherlock leant over and gave John a very tender kiss. When he sat back, John could not miss the openly infatuated look that Sherlock had on, “Let them all see, John. They were my past but my future will never be good unless you’re the one with me.”

“Well, I’m always going to be with you, love, even if we’d never come this far.”

“I know John. Now, I know.” John reached across the table and held Sherlock’s hand. He was so happy right then and knew that they were beginning a brand new phase of their life but that they wouldn’t need to give up the other parts. They were both finally completely content.


End file.
